Author: Veronica Foale

  • Clocks ticking

    When I wake up, colour has disappeared. A phone ringing cuts through my sleep, but being only my mobile, I ignore it. You can do things like that when the world is frozen and your phone takes messages. Slowly my children surface and I throw open the curtains to reveal a world frozen, icy white.

    No colour for me. Not today.

    It’s the kind of weather that seeps into your bones and sinks fingers into your soul.

    Frozen pipes herald the middle of winter, when you turn the tap and nothing but icy air appears.

    Even as I warm up and the world defrosts, I feel frozen inside.

    ***

    It’s like a clock ticking.

    tick

    tock

    tick

    tock

    Twelve months ago she was alive still.

    Twelve months ago we had nine days left. We didn’t see the countdown hanging over our heads, hiding just out of sight. We didn’t see it then, but I see it now.

    ***

    I sink myself into my archives from June last year.

    I survived that.

    How did I survive that?

    My body takes over and leaves me moving, one step at a time.

    Don’t think, don’t count, don’t look at the calendar. Turn the music off, pull your eyes away from there. Don’t listen, don’t feel, don’t think about it. Keep your eyes focused, smile, laugh, your mind can’t go where you don’t send it. Be matter of fact, keep your practicalities. We need more sugar, who spilled the milk, where did that nappy go? What’s for dinner, who’s peeling potatoes, can I have a hand? Amy get down, Isaac shush, Mummy needs a moment. Don’t think, don’t look, don’t make any sudden movements.

    We can do this.

    One step at a time.

    tick

    tock

    tick

    tock

    One step. And then another.

    We’re moving closer and I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

    ***

    What was I doing twelve months ago?

    You were surviving.

    How?

    I don’t know.

    ***

    Life is hard.

    No wait, scratch that.

    Living is hard.

    But it’s also beautiful.

  • This June

    This June,

    I would like to come out the other side intact.

    I would like to manage to stave off my broken-ness.

    I would like to come through whole and okay.

    Because,

    last June

    I didn’t.

    And I can’t fathom doing that again.

    Last June,

    I ended up broken

    and tired

    and sad.

    Last June,

    was like being hit by a train

    repeatedly.

    And some things haven’t healed,

    and some people haven’t been forgiven.

    And they won’t.

    Because

    wow

    that was low.

    and I’m broken,

    because I can’t scream the words at you I want to

    and because I can’t talk about it any more.

    So this June,

    I want to come through whole.

    I don’t want to feel kicked when I am down,

    or strung tightly like a bow string,

    choking on what I want to say,

    but am too polite to.

    This June,

    I want to be okay.

    And I want to tell you,

    to go fuck yourself.

    You’re not a nice human being.

    And it’s your fault I can’t cry and it’s your fault I can’t talk anymore.

    Because I want to tell you.

    And I can’t,

    because you don’t need to hear it.

    Because being kicked when you’re down isn’t fun.

    And aren’t you glad I’m not like you.

  • Welcome to the InterWebs Part 3

    Part One

    Part Two

    ***

    Anna had been in the InterWebs for a few weeks now and she was slowly getting the hang of it. Food was different here and the noise when she was amongst the Mummybloggers was horrendous.

    I’m happy here. This is good. This is what I wanted.

    However as much as she thought it and repeated it like a mantra, she still wasn’t sure. The happiness was palpable and no one ever seemed to get tired. Anna opened her laptop to check her About Page again. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop the thing tarnishing.

    Sighing, she lifted her head and looked around.

    The garish lights of the InterWebs were everywhere and she thought she could see the flashing .gif banners encroaching on her little bubble. Did it look like they were … alive? No. Surely not. She gave her head a little shake and bent back to her About Page, editing and re-editing the thing.

    The Mummybloggers had been so lovely, taking her in and walking her through the Interwebs. She was going to be forever in their debt. They’d explained the importance of a Blogroll and a page for prospective advertisers. She was excited about the idea of making money from her writing.

    She finished up her About Page and looked it over – the tarnish had retreated yet again, and Anna was looking crisp and confident.

    And while I’m here, I may as well take care of the Blogroll.

    Anna didn’t like her Blogroll much. The horrid thing was snappy and nasty, it kept trying to take her fingers off. It didn’t seem to matter what she did to try and contain it, the thing was never happy. Adding links, removing links, it never ended.

    Maybe I shouldn’t have removed any links she thought. But no, those blogs were dead! Their owners disappeared back to Reality and I couldn’t really leave their links there, could I?

    Nevertheless, the Blogroll snapped at her fingers and snarled as she tried to update it. It always seemed hungry and irritable. She had had other Mummybloggers complain that their links weren’t there and she was starting to get sick of the entire thing.

    SNAP!

    OUCH. FUCK.

    It BIT ME.

    The fucking thing BIT me.

    Anna suspected that swearing had just undone all the work that she’d done on her About Page, but she didn’t really care. Holding her finger up to the light she looked for blood, before remembering where she was.

    InterWebs. Right. You don’t bleed here. Not real blood anyway.

    Making up her mind quickly, she sat on her Blogroll and as it fought and twisted away from her, she pressed the Delete button.

    A little pop and it was gone.

    Phew. All that angst and energy and it’s gone.

    She felt lighter already. There had been a lot of complaining about who was and wasn’t on her blogroll and she might have made a few enemies when she couldn’t be bothered wrestling with the thing to add links to it.

    Hungry little fucker.

    She sucked on her finger and debated fixing her About Page yet again. Anna understood the importance of a good About page, the cynical guide in the beginning had explained it, but really, the tarnish was driving her wild.

    As she looked around, someone sidled up behind her and sat down with a flump.

    ‘Arrgh!’

    Anna jumped.

    ‘Who are you?’

    ‘Susan.’

    Anna was expecting a little more information than that.

    ‘You scared me.’ She extended her hand. ‘I’m Anna.’

    ‘Sorry. I’m not normally here on the Mummyblogger side of things.’ Susan twirled a lock of hair, looking a little ashamed. ‘I’m not really welcome here.’

    Anna looked her up and down. She looked nice enough.

    ‘Why is that?’

    ‘I disagreed with Jennifer once. In the beginning.’

    Jennifer was the leader of the Mummybloggers, the bubbly blonde woman who had welcomed Anna in the weeks previously.

    Anna gave a wry laugh. ‘I can’t imagine anyone disagreeing with Jennifer.’ Secretly she thought I can’t imagine anyone having the guts to disagree with Jennifer.

    ‘Oh I did. It was …. well. It wasn’t pretty.’

    Anna laughed again. ‘I can imagine.’

    Susan looked at her. ‘You don’t look happy.’

    Anna sighed. She had been hoping that the recent edits on her About page would have hidden that.

    ‘I’m not.’

    ‘Why?’

    It all poured out in a rush. ‘My About Page keeps tarnishing, no matter what I do. My Blogroll just BIT me and I deleted it – all that work, gone. The lights here make my head hurt and if I have to listen to someone else rave about how cuuuuuute their kid is I might just puke. Where is the real life? These women, every single thing is perfect and it’s driving me mad, because I’m not perfect too.’

    Anna stopped to breath and Susan put her arm around her shoulders.

    ‘Anna? I know exactly how you feel.’

    They looked at each other and burst into giggles.

    ‘Oh my God, I thought I was the only one. I haven’t sworn for WEEKS and my head hurts from being positive and shiny.’

    They laughed harder.

    ‘Would you like to meet some real women?’

    ‘God, would I ever?’

    ‘We’ve got our bad apples too, but we’re all real. I promise.’

    ‘What do you call yourselves? I was told we needed to know what we were in order to cope here.’

    ‘We label ourselves Personal Bloggers, but really, we’re just Bloggers. Most of us are Mummyblogger rejects. So we’re probably Mummybloggers too, just not happy happy joy joy Mummybloggers.’

    Susan stood and Anna followed suit. ‘Come on’ said Susan ‘We’re not that far away.’

    Susan walked off and Anna followed close behind her.

    Finally, she was going to meet some real people.

    Well.

    As real as anything ever got in the InterWebs.

    ***

    Part Four Here

  • So, I got reviewed.

    And they’re a notoriously hard crowd to please over there.

    Go see?

  • Thursday Night

    This is where I’m going to be thursday night:

    Click image to see it bigger.

    It’s going to be interesting.